Why Would I Bemoan the Loss of a Baby Tooth?
I’m 52 years old. And my dentist just pulled my baby tooth
I was blessed with a unique set of teeth — 2 baby teeth (one on the top and one on the bottom) with no permanent teeth coming up behind them.
I sat in the dental chair this afternoon expecting my dentist to have a look-see into my mouth and make a claim that the ache from my baby tooth was caused by a minor infection and would give me a prescription for antibiotics and send me on my way.
But that was not to be.
He pulled it.
It didn’t hurt. He numbed the area enough and the tooth had no roots left and was already wiggly. It just popped out.
I asked to keep it.
The dental hygienist obliged and after cleaning it up, she popped it into a little box meant for young children to put under their pillow for the Tooth Fairy.
I held it in my palm. Tears welled in my eyes.
Why was I so sad to see the white jewel in the little pink box?
I have 2 theories:
- Loss of my identity
I often joked about the uniqueness of having 2 baby teeth with no permanent teeth behind them.
I especially liked to use this as one of my “truths” in the 2 Truths & a Lie icebreaker game. To play this game, one person has to give three statements about themselves to the rest of the group. Two of the statements given should be true and one should be a lie. Then each person in the group has a chance to guess which statement they think you made up.
Most people didn’t believe that at my age I would still have working baby teeth in my mouth. I usually won this game because of this.
But now I could not make this outrageous claim to being unique.
My identity as having a very distinctive physical feature has been lost.
2. Loss of my youth
With age spots, wrinkles, and cellulite taking over my once tanned, smooth, and soft skin was this another example of my advancing into the upper ages?
Was I actually trudging along the other side of the hill?
Losing my last baby tooth feels like the final milestone in my slide into midlife. Now it’s official that I am no longer a spry youthful girl but a matronly, middle-aged woman.
Sadly, I think that both theories may be correct.
I will need to re-identify myself and accept that the sands of time are slipping away quickly and enjoy what little time I may have left.
Or …
I can put the tooth under my pillow tonight and look forward to what the Tooth Fairy brings me!
